Energy
by Osidiano
Summary: Summer contest piece for DA's Brotherlylove group. Oneshot, [Tabloid shipping]. The younger you are, the more energy you have, according to Mokuba. The events of an average summer morning with the Kaiba brothers.


Disclaimer/Note: I do not own Yu-Gi-Oh, or either of the characters used in this story. They belong to Kazuki Takahashi, and whoever he sold his soul to. This story was written solely for the amusement of those choosing to read it, and no copyright infringement was intended. All original concepts/ideas and the story itself are original (_duh_) and belong to me. Do not steal.

**Energy**

Outside, puffy white clouds drifted through the otherwise clear sky, their slowly moving shadows the only respite from the burning glare of the midday sun. The pale sand beneath nearly shimmered with heat, capturing and amplifying the warmth from above. Past that lay the ocean, its foam-capped tides violently slamming into the peaceful shore before ebbing back out to sea. Each swell left behind traces of seaweed and broken shells, disturbing the small aquatic creatures struggling to make their way over the wet sand. Bright light streamed in past the half-drawn curtains of their quaint little summer home; the beams landing in uneven patches across the wooden floor boards of the quiet room.

It was the repetitive sound of breaking waves that awoke him, caused his grey-blue eyes to open lazily. He blinked a few times in an attempt to adjust to the seemingly sudden illumination. His breathing was deep and steady, rhythmic as the sea itself. He still felt sore from the night and day before, his aching muscles strained from activity. A moment later found him settling for a dazed squint as he heaved himself into a sitting position to survey the room. He did not notice the thin bed sheet had slipped down his bared stomach, now resting over his hips in a rumpled heap.

The broad window set into the far left wall of the room was open, and it was from there that the light came. He smiled when the hint of a breeze wafted in off the ocean's surface, caressing his sweat-soaked skin. It was cool, crisp and salty; just the way he liked it. His hands came up to brush his ragged black bangs back from his line of vision, which jumped from object to object around the room, unable to fully focus on any one thing. There was a picture on one of the walls, some painted landscape that he never would have picked out. A black laptop sat open on the beige desk, looking starkly out of place in the cream-colored room with its muted earth tones in the scattered form of furniture and cloth. There was more: a lamp on the dresser, suitcase propped up between it and the wall; and a dark briefcase – not his, to be sure – had been knocked over nearby. All in all, it seemed like a painfully boring setting for his day.

For a minute, he toyed with the idea of getting up, of actually rousing himself from his partial sleep-state to go outside and play in the cold water under the hot noon sun. His swim trunks lay on the floor next to the bed where they had been dropped so many hours ago, and if he bent over the edge from his current position, he knew that they would be within arm's reach. It was tempting, but just as he about to make his move, to give into this new and impulsive urge, he heard his name, and stopped.

". . .Mokuba."

Besides him, a body stirred drowsily, one strong arm wrapping around his waist in a reflexively possessive manner. Mokuba turned his attention to the young man next to him, smiling fondly at the familiar mess of short brown hair on the soft pillow that hid the sharply angular profile and lapis eyes from view. Those eyes would be narrowed, he knew, in the habitual scowl that the young man almost always wore; the down turned corners of his thin lips a dead give-away. Mokuba placed a hand on his companion's head, running his fingers through the hair and letting it stop at the nape of his neck, taking the time then to marvel at the difference between their respective skin tones. He was darkly tanned over that naturally dusky complexion he had inherited from their father, while his brother was pale enough to pass for a foreigner.

"I'm gonna go for a walk," he whispered, as though not to awaken his sibling any further. The arm around his waist loosened. "I'll be back soon, I promise."

"Do you always have this much energy?"

That question was met by a broad grin as Mokuba hopped out of bed, grabbing his swim trunks off the floor and tugging them on in one swift motion. Seto watched him with a slowly wandering gaze: up, and then back down, the length of the boy's half-naked body. "Of course. It's because I have more stamina than you, big brother."

"Smart-ass."


End file.
